


Defending Virtue

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-08
Updated: 2004-02-08
Packaged: 2019-05-30 18:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh Lyman's last thought, as the room faded to black, was that there were worse things than dying for Donnatella Moss.





	1. Defending Virtue

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Defending Virtue**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh, Sam, Donna, and a couple of original characters. Some C.J.  Toby, Leo, Jed, and Charlie make a brief appearance.  
**Pairing(s):** A smidge of J/D; depends on how badly you want it, but really just friendship  
**Rating:** PG   
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, no matter how hard I wish.  I do, however, get to claim ownership of Calvin Randall, Captain Morris, and Detectives Ross Slater and Chris Noland.  
**Summary:** Josh Lyman’s last thought, as the room faded to black, was that there were worse things than dying for Donnatella Moss.  
**Spoiler:** Lots of little things here and there.  This could take place at any point mid series.  
**Author's Note:** Feedback is the nectar of the gods.  Again, Boku thanks to Classic She for her time and amazing beta skills. 

White House- West Wing- Operations

Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff

Josh Lyman dropped his head down, stretching the tired muscles in his neck.  He then systematically began to roll his shoulders and his head to work out the kinks in his muscles.  As he brought his head up, his gaze fell on his blonde assistant standing before his desk.

"Is it done?"

He gave her a tired grin. A sudden wave of energy washed over him and he leaped to his feet.  Sliding the pages he’d been reading into a folder, Josh came around the desk holding the file out before him.

"Seven and a half months, hundreds of meetings, blood, sweat, and tears..."

Donna raised an eyebrow.  "Blood, sweat, and tears?"

Josh stopped and shrugged his shoulders.  "The air conditioning was broken and Sam got a paper cut.  You know what a wuss he is..." he trailed off, the boyish grin remaining on his face.

Donna returned the grin.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, a bundle of nervous energy.  "It’s done.  I’m going to take this to Sammy."  Josh practically skipped out the door of his office, giddy with the excitement of finishing a project that had been so long in the making.  Donna trailed him as he headed for the Communications Bullpen.

white house - west wing - Communications Department

Office of Deputy Communications Director

Sam Seaborn sat at his computer, fingers flying over the keyboard.  Toby Zeigler stood just behind him, peering over his shoulder, frowning.  Every few moments the Communications Director would grunt or make a comment.

"Verbs, Princeton.  You know that part of speech that is essential to a sentence?  Shows action or state of being?"

"It’s called imagery, Toby."

"You know, we should make sure there is someone standing by with oxygen; for when the President passes out from not having a pause to breathe.  Ever heard of punctuation?"

Sam’s hands stilled.  He let out a short breath and turned to look up at his boss and mentor.  "Would you like to write this speech?"

Toby leaned back against the bookcase.  "No.  You’re doing fine."

Sam stared at Toby.

"It is done!"

Sam and Toby turned toward the doorway to see Josh, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning and holding up a thick folder.  He walked the rest of the way into the office and handed the file to Sam, and repeating himself.  "It’s done."

"Completely done?"

"Utterly, totally, finished."

Donna shook her head.  "760 verbal?"

"Today is a day to celebrate.  You will not destroy my joy with your snarky comments, Donnatella Moss!"

"I’m just saying..."

"We’ve got to go out tonight."  Sam looked up from where he was leafing through the pages of the bill, looking for any last minute changes that Josh might have missed.

"Georgetown Station?"  Josh slipped his hands into his pockets.  "My last meeting is at 5:00."

"7:30." Donna corrected him.

He swung around to face her.  "What?"

"You have Matt Skinner at 7:30.  He had to reschedule."

"Fine."  Josh turned back to face the two speechwriters. "You coming, Toby?"

The gruff speechwriter shook his head.  "I’ve got to finish the UAW speech for Friday."

"Sam?"  Josh asked, sensing their rare chance at a relaxing evening slipping away.

Sam looked at Toby, who gave him a slight nod.  "Yeah. I’m in."

Josh grinned.  "I’ll go invite C.J."

Josh and Donna exited the office.  "You have a meeting with Leo in 10 minutes.  Don’t be late."  Donna reminded him as she handed the stack of files she’d been carrying to Ginger.

"Yeah, yeah.  Leo, 10 minutes."  Josh muttered with a wave of his hand.  Donna headed back toward Operations and Josh continued to C.J. Cregg’s office.

 C.J. sat at her desk, phone pressed to her ear and head bent over an open file.  "No comment on that one."  She paused to listen to the speaker on the other end of the line. "Definitely no comment on that!"  There was another pause.  "The President is taking into consideration all possibilities as presented by his advisors."

Josh knocked lightly on the doorframe. The Press Secretary looked up from the papers she was reading and flashed him a grin.  He moved the rest of the way into the office and stood impatiently before her desk.

"Yes.  You’re welcome."  C.J. hung up the phone and closed the folder she had been reading from.  She leaned back in her chair and smiled up at her friend.  "The Manchester Union Leader wants to know if the President is going to be spending Thanksgiving and Christmas in Manchester.  They want to know why he would choose Camp David over his family farm."

Josh scowled. "Thanksgiving is what, five months away?"

"Something like that.  What’s up?"

"Sam, Donna, and I are going out for a celebratory beer tonight.  Come with us."

"The Waynewright Bill?"

  
A huge grin broke over Josh’s tired features.  "Done."

"Congratulations, Mi Amore!  I can’t come."

"C.J."  Josh whined.  "Toby’s bailing on us to work on a speech the President declared locked two days ago.  It’s been ages since we all went out."

C.J. shook her head, marveling at how much the savoir-faire politician before her could act like a two year old.  "I’ve got the Women in Media dinner tonight."

"Okay.  But next time."  Josh toed the carpet and C.J. had all she could do to keep from laughing at him.

"Just don’t do anything stupid.  I don’t want calls in the middle of the night, or headlines to clean up in the morning."

"Claudia Jean."  Josh placed a hand on his chest, an innocent, shocked look on his face.  "I’m hurt.  We would be nothing but on our best behavior!"

The tall Press Secretary gave an inelegant snort.  "Only in my dreams.  You, Sam, and Donna?  At a bar?  Great."

Josh chuckled and turned to leave.  "Have fun at your stuffy dinner, C.J."

"Don’t do anything stupid.  Headlines, Joshua, headlines."  She called after him.  C.J. shook her head and turned her attention back to the various memos littering her desk.

GEORGETOWN- 25TH STREET

The early summer sun did nothing to improve Calvin Randall’s mood as he locked the door to his one-room apartment.  He scowled at his elderly neighbor, Mrs. Crenshaw, and her yappy little terrier as they passed on the stoop. As he stepped onto the sidewalk he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.  The tie knotted at his neck felt uncomfortable, but he knew the dress clothes were necessary.  Cal shuffled down the sidewalk toward the Metro stop and the train that would take him to his 10th job interview in 2 months.

The ex-Army Ranger caught his reflection in a storefront and stopped to appraise his appearance.  "I clean up pretty good."  He said quietly to himself.  He ran slightly shaky fingers through short-cropped light blond hair.  A glance at his watch told him that if he didn’t get going he’d miss his train.  He couldn’t afford to screw this up.  He needed this job.  He was months behind on his alimony and child support payments. With a quicker pace and unimproved mood he headed for the Foggy Bottom Metro stop.

DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA METRO POLICE STATION

"Slater! Noland!"

Detective Ross Slater finished signing his name and handed the form over to the desk sergeant.  He then turned to face his precinct captain.  "Captain Morris."

The older man grasped Slater’s hand firmly, a wide grin on his face.  He simultaneously shook the detective’s hand and slapped him on the back, then turned to give the same treatment to Ross’ partner, Chris Noland. "Congratulations on closing the Butler Case.  The mayor was thrilled when I called him.  This is going to mean commendations for both of you, I’m sure."

"Thank you, Cap." Ross exchanged a knowing look with Chris.  "If you’ll excuse us, sir, we need to finish processing this prisoner.  We have the paper work to complete on the Butler case as well."

"Of course. Good work you two."  Captain Morris gave the two young detectives one last pat on the back before returning to his office.

"Commendations."  Ross snorted.  "That’s all he cares about.  If we get commendations for this case, that puts our precinct ahead of Captain Frost’s.  Those two are the biggest rivals I’ve ever seen."

Chris sat down at his desk and opened a file.  "They use to be best friends.  My dad said that when they were at the academy, they were inseparable.  But you have to admit, the Butler Case was huge and commendations from the mayor’s office will look good on our records."

Ross chuckled as he signed a report.  "Yeah.  Your papa is going to be so proud."

Noland threw a wadded up memo across the two desks at his partner.  "Your folks will be too.  ‘D.C. Metro’s Rising Star Detective.’  I can see the headlines now."

Ross laughed as he dropped the paper missile into the trash.  "What do you say we go out tonight?  Catch a drink before heading home, unless you have a hot date?"  He raised an eyebrow at his partner.

The redhead shook his head ruefully.  "Em’s out of town this weekend.  I’m free."

"Great!  Just don’t mention it to Cap.  He might want to turn it into a precinct party.  After the stress of this case I just want a calm evening with my partner and a good draft of beer."

"My lips are sealed."


	2. Defending Virtue 2

**Defending Virtue**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh, Sam, Donna, and a couple of original characters. Some C.J.  Toby, Leo, Jed, and Charlie make a brief appearance.  
**Pairing(s):** A smidge of J/D; depends on how badly you want it, but really just friendship  
**Rating:** PG   
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, no matter how hard I wish.  I do, however, get to claim ownership of Calvin Randall, Captain Morris, and Detectives Ross Slater and Chris Noland.  
**Summary:** Josh Lyman’s last thought, as the room faded to black, was that there were worse things than dying for Donnatella Moss.  
**Spoiler:** Lots of little things here and there.  This could take place at any point mid series.  
**Author's Note:** Feedback is the nectar of the gods.  Again, Boku thanks to Classic She for her time and amazing beta skills. 

* * *

GEORGETOWN STATION BAR AND GRILL

9:00 P.M.

Josh Lyman settled against the wall of the booth.  His exhaustion was still present, but held at bay by a desire to relax with good friends.  His mind drifted back to his last meeting.  He liked Matt Skinner, and they had been friends for a long time, but tonight’s meeting had been nothing but frustration.  They had gone 10 rounds on a bill that had no hope of passing.  Neither men could agree with the other nor make the other see their point.  Josh had finally called an end to the meeting. Nothing had been resolved.  He pushed his frustration with the governmental machine aside and smiled to himself as he listened to Sam and Donna debate the wisdom of the White House and Congress being exempt from workplace related laws.  How far they had all come; especially the young college drop-out who had essentially hired herself as his assistant.

"It’s ridiculous, Sam."

Josh snorted.  "Strong, witty come back, there, Donna."

"Shut up, Mr. ‘I make the law.  I am the law.’  I didn’t hear you jumping in with any witty repartee."  She punched him on the arm.

"Oww!"  He rubbed his upper arm and scowled at his assistant.

Sam made no effort to hide his amusement at their interaction.  "You weren’t even listening."

"I was too."  Josh all but pouted.

"I’m going to the restroom.  I’ll be right back."  Donna collected her purse and slid out of the booth.

She weaved her way through the tables to the restrooms, a short distance from their booth.  Her passage caught the attention of several of the patrons, who followed her progress past their tables.

Cal Randall sat nursing his last beer and brooding.  He knew it was his last beer because as he’d ordered it the bar tender had informed him, "No more."  That was something that strongly attracted him to this bar, which he frequented.  The bar tenders were not afraid to cut him off, to tell him when he’d had enough, and then call a cab for him when he couldn’t remember his address.  Most nights found Cal at the bar until nearly closing time.  He saw no point in being home.  Sleep never came unless aided by alcohol and most nights, alcohol succeeded in keeping the nightmares in check.

Unfortunately alcohol did nothing to improve his temper, and prevented him from hanging onto a decent job for very long.  _‘We’re sorry, sir.  You are certainly qualified, however, based on your record and the recommendations we received, we cannot, in good conscience hire you.  We’d like to give you a chance, really, but it’s just a risk we can’t afford to take.’_

This afternoon’s interview had been no different.  Cal could no longer count the number of times he’d heard some variation on the same rejection.  Five years out of the service.  Five years of nightmares, flashbacks, and drunken-stupor trying to wash away the images from his mind.  Five years of loneliness.  A medical discharge, accompanied by a diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder had outlined the course his life would take.  When his drinking and violent temper increased concurrently with the night terrors and panic attacks, Lynn and the boys had walked out of his life forever.

Cal glanced up as a women glided past his table.  The bar had been full when he arrived in the late afternoon and he had settled at a small table in the back, not too far from the bathrooms.   His eyes followed the young blonde, moving down her body to admire her slim figure.  She was wearing a tastefully tailored skirt and blouse, designed to be professional, yet accentuate her feminine figure.  The line of her legs was complemented by modest high heeled shoes.  There was an air of elegance about the young woman and she carried herself with confidence.  Cal felt a stirring in his gut, and couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed this beautiful woman before.  He watched her enter the bathroom, not two feet from his table and took another swig of his beer.

Ross Slater watched the beautiful young blonde slip past their table.  "Did you see her?"  He asked Chris as he self-consciously smoothed down his brown curls and tugged at his loosened tie.

Chris chuckled.  "Yeah, I also saw the two guys she’s with."  He motioned subtly toward a nearby booth where two men sat engrossed in conversation.

Ross observed the men.  The younger of the two, despite the loosened tie and rolled up sleeves, looked as if he’d just stepped from the pages of GQ magazine.  Every dark hair was in place and he sat with his back straight against the booth, the image of good posture.  The other man looked less put together.  He was slumped against the wall.  His wavy brown hair was unruly, as if the man was constantly running his hands through it.  As if to prove Ross’s observation correct, the man paused in his gesturing and did just that.  His tie was askew and shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.  His visage was the antithesis of his companion; rumpled and looking like he’d slept in his suit, for several nights.

"Politicians."  Chris stated.

"Yeah."  Ross agreed.  "They look familiar.  I think I’ve seen them somewhere before."

A few moments later, Donna Moss emerged from the bathroom and began to make her way back to their booth.  She jumped, startled when a rough hand on her arm and a "Hey baby; here alone?" stopped her.

Heart pounding, Donna looked down at the man whose hand was still grasping her arm.  His short, light blond hair was mussed.  His dress shirt was untucked, an unknotted tie was draped around his neck.  Under other circumstances, Donna might have been attracted to this well built man, but it was obvious that he’d had too many beers.  She tried to pull out of his grip and glanced in the direction of her booth.

Josh and Sam were deep in conversation.  Sam’s back was to her, and Josh’s eyes were  focused on his friend, hands moving rapidly, punctuating what ever point he was trying to make.  No one seemed to notice her predicament.

"No.  My friends are right over there.  Please, let go."  Donna tried to keep her voice firm, not letting the man hear her fear.

Cal knew that it wasn’t the best pick up line in the world, but at this point he didn’t really care.  God, the woman was beautiful; long blonde hair framed a narrow face and striking blue eyes blinked at him, anger and fear battling in them.  He tugged again at her arm as she asked him to release her.  "Come join me, baby.  I’ll buy you a drink."

Looking back on the incident later, Josh still wouldn’t be able to identify what made him look toward the bathrooms at that moment.  Maybe it was Sam’s comment about Donna that made him look to see if she was on her way back.  Or maybe it was some weird sixth sense that told him she was in trouble.  What ever it was, he was grateful.

As he looked away from Sam he felt his blood freeze in his veins and his heart stop.  A few feet away, Donna stood beside a table, trying to pull her arm from the grasp of a tall muscular blond, and glancing desperately in their direction.

Sam trailed off as Josh rose from his seat and quickly made his way across the short distance.

Josh was unaware of his surroundings, his focus solely on Donna and the frightened look on her face.  "Hey buddy."  His voice was rough, surprising even himself.  "The lady is with me.  Why don’t you just let her pass?"

Cal chuckled.  "Maybe she wants to have a drink with a real man, looser."  He stood to confront Josh.

There was barely any space between the two men and Josh frowned at the strong smell of alcohol on the muscle head’s breath.  The man had probably a hundred pounds and a few inches of height on Josh. "I don’t want trouble.  Just let her go."

The man dropped Donna’s arm and roughly pushed Josh.  "Oh yeah, fairy boy?"

Josh took a step back, loosing his battle to stay calm.  "Buddy, she’s way out of your league."

In a lightening move, Cal slammed a hand into Josh’s chest, grabbing a handful of shirt, pushing him back against the wall, and pinning him there.  Pain exploded through his body at the impact, and Josh gave a strangled cry of surprise that was cut off, as in the same movement the ex-ranger grabbed his throat.  Pressure on his wind pipe made it nearly impossible to breathe, let alone make any noise.  Panic surged through him and he tried to squirm out of the guy’s grip.  His hands clawed desperately at the vice-like fingers.  His vision clouded and his chest tightened.  His head thundered and his knees buckled, but he remained pinned in place by a strong arm.

What had begun as a much needed relaxing evening with friends had quickly turned into a nightmare.  Donna screamed as Josh was slammed into the wall.  She was quickly joined Sam, each trying to pry the man off their friend.

"Stop!  Let him go!"  She pleaded.

"Ya know what this is?"  The man growled into Josh’s face.  Josh was squirming in the man’s grip, digging at the fingers at his throat, mouth opening and closing much like that of a fish.  "Ranger’s Choke Hold.  The right amount of pressure...."

Josh gasped as fingers tightening, and his face went alarmingly pale.  His movements became more desperate.

"...and I crush your wind pipe."

Josh Lyman’s last thought as the room faded to black, was that there were worse things than dying for Donnatella Moss.

The conversations in the bar stopped, the room had gone silent and the click of a gun cocking echoed against the still pulsing background music.  "Let him go."  A new, authoritative voice spoke.

Sam risked a brief glance over his shoulder.  Two men, in shirts and ties, stood in police stance, guns trained on the bulky aggressor.  "Let him go."  The curly haired one repeated.

Donna moved to Josh’s side, trying to somehow support him.

The haze created by PTSD and alcohol cleared, and Cal Randall saw clearly, for the first time, the man he held pinned to the wall.  The pale thin face had gone slack, lips tinted blue from lack of oxygen.  Cal’s grip was all that kept the man’s body upright.  With a surreal feeling of detachment, he let go and stepped back.

The young blonde, whose beauty had started the entire incident, tried unsuccessfully to support the limp man’s weight.  As the man with the gun hand-cuffed Cal, he passively watched the blonde and the dark haired man ease their friend to the floor.  He was vaguely aware of the second man reading him his rights as he was lead from the bar into the cool night.

As the man released his choke hold on Josh, Donna slipped an arm around his waist and placed her other hand on his heaving chest.  Relief surged through her as she heard his coughing gasps.  Unable to support Josh’s weight, they both sank to the floor.  Donna was vaguely aware of Sam’s presence at Josh’s other side.

"Josh?"

He coughed again and lifted a feeble hand to his bruised chest.  "God."  He rasped, eyes still closed, trying to drag air into his aching lungs.  "I think he broke something."  Another cough and he grimaced in pain.

"An ambulance in on the way."

Donna and Sam looked up to see the curly haired policeman crouched in front of them, evaluating Josh.  "My partner has the guy outside.  I’m Detective Ross Slater, Metro PD.  Look, I saw the whole thing.  I assume you’ll want to press charges."

Josh gave a slight nod of his head, grimacing at the movement.

"She’s Donna Moss and this is Josh Lyman."  Sam spoke for them.  "Sam Seaborn."  He extended his hand to the young detective.

Slater grimly shook his head as he grasped Sam’s hand.  "I thought I recognized you;   White House Deputy Chief of Staff and Deputy Communications Director.  That guy’s bad night just got worse."  Slater moved aside as two paramedics appeared.

Sam moved to stand beside Slater and watched as the EMTs checked Josh over.  Donna stayed with him, holding his hand.

Ross Slater handed Sam a business card.  "I’m going to go process that yahoo.  I’ll check in with you later."  The men shook hands again and Sam handed Slater his own business card before turning back to his friend.

An oxygen mask had been placed over Josh’s mouth and nose.  He seemed to be breathing a little easier and the blue tint had left his lips.  His face had lost the grayish hue, but was a startling white.  His left arm was being immobilized and a stiff collar placed around his neck.  The paramedics finished strapping Josh to a back board before placing him on the stretcher.

"Which hospital?"  Sam asked as they started out of the bar.  Donna walked beside the rolling stretcher, holding Josh’s right hand and speaking softly to him.

"GW."  Came the brisk reply.

Sam swallowed back a wave of nausea as he was assaulted by a strong memory of the last time his friend was strapped to a stretcher, wearing an oxygen mask and neck brace.  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and hit speed dial.

"C.J. Cregg."  Came the Press Secretary’s disembodied voice after the second ring.

"C.J., it’s Sam.  Look," he sighed as he watched his best friend loaded into the back of an ambulance.  "there’s been a thing..."

"What idiotic thing did you let Josh talk you into?"  The Press Secretary ranted in Sam’s ear.  "I specifically told him no headlines!  I’m going to kill him!"

"Nno."  Sam stuttered, trying to stop her tirade.  "It’s not like that..."  Sam trailed off as he watched Donna climb into the ambulance.  He signaled to her that he would follow in the car.

"Sam?"  C.J.’s voice carried her concern over the airwaves, all the mocking and irritation was gone.

"There was this really big guy harassing Donna..."  Sam looked around the parking lot, trying to remember where he’d parked.

"Sam?  What’s going on?  Is Donna okay?"

"They’re taking Josh to GW."  Sam’s voice was grim, his tone held a frightening finality.  "I...I don’t know how badly he’s hurt."

"Sam, where are you right now?"  C.J.’s voice was gentle.

"I’m trying to find my car.  I...I’ve got to get to the hospital."  There was an edge of panic and frustration to the young speechwriter’s voice.

"I’ll meet you there.  I’m sure Josh’ll be fine."  C.J. tried to reassure them both, and succeeded in grounding Sam.

"Okay." Sam eased into the driver’s seat of his car.  "I’ll see you soon."  He ended the call and pulled out of the parking lot.

Sam winced as he heard a siren in the distance.  He briefly and irrationally hoped that it wasn’t the ambulance caring Josh.  As he followed the route he knew the ambulance had taken, Sam’s mind drifted back to a late night when Josh had confided in him over beers.  Sam had been shaken at his friend’s descriptions of a mangled mix of music and sirens, of flashbacks, and of too real nightmares.  When Josh was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Sam had been both terrified and relieved.  This was the very thing that ended careers in Washington, and Sam knew they all feared for Josh’s job.  Yet he felt tremendous relief, because he knew that Josh was hurting, but didn’t know how to help him.  Josh showed improvement in the subsequent weeks; he lost the hollow, haunted look that had sat on his face for months prior to that Christmas, and his swagger returned. And Sam woke in a cold sweat with less frequency.

Pulling into the parking lot at George Washington University Hospital, Sam couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through him and he wondered if Josh and Donna were experiencing as strong memories as he.


	3. Defending Virtue 3

**Defending Virtue**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh, Sam, Donna, and a couple of original characters. Some C.J.  Toby, Leo, Jed, and Charlie make a brief appearance.  
**Pairing(s):** A smidge of J/D; depends on how badly you want it, but really just friendship  
**Rating:** PG   
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, no matter how hard I wish.  I do, however, get to claim ownership of Calvin Randall, Captain Morris, and Detectives Ross Slater and Chris Noland.  
**Summary:** Josh Lyman’s last thought, as the room faded to black, was that there were worse things than dying for Donnatella Moss.  
**Spoiler:** Lots of little things here and there.  This could take place at any point mid series.  
**Author's Note:** Feedback is the nectar of the gods.  Again, Boku thanks to Classic She for her time and amazing beta skills. 

* * *

GEORGE WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL

C.J. Cregg strode into the emergency room and immediately began searching for the familiar shock of dark hair.  She quickly spotted Sam Seaborn pacing the floor by the nurse’s station.  "Sam!"

The young man’s head snapped up and relief washed over his features as he recognized the tall Press Secretary.

C.J. enveloped Sam in a comforting hug.  "How’s Josh?"

Sam pulled out of the hug.  "He just came back from x-ray."  He gently grasped C.J.’s arm and guided her into a small curtained off area.

Josh lay on the hospital bed, propped up at an angle.  The cervical collar had been removed and the oxygen mask replaced by a nasal canular.  His skin was pale; making the bruises already forming on his neck stand out.  His left arm remained strapped to his chest and an ice pack was draped over his left shoulder.  Josh’s still ragged breathing was audible.

Donna sat on his right, her hands on his uninjured arm.  She looked up when Sam and C.J. entered and flashed them a sad smile.  "He’s sleeping."  She spoke softly, finding comfort in stating the obvious.

"Has the doctor said anything yet?"  Sam asked, watching his resting friend.

"He’s got a lot of bruising and is going to be really sore for a while.  We’re waiting for the results of the x-ray, but they think his collar bone is broken."  Donna sighed and turned her gaze back to Josh’s face.  "His windpipe is bruised.  They want to keep him over night in case he has trouble breathing."

"What happened?" C.J. asked.

"Excuse me."  They were interrupted by the emergency room doctor.  "I’m sorry."  He addressed Sam and C.J.  "You all can’t be back here."

Sam was about to protest when C.J. placed a restraining hand on his arm.  "Josh has created enough headlines for today.  I don’t need to try to spin you beating up an ER doctor."  C.J. pulled Sam into the hallway with a promise from Donna that the Doctor’s news would be relayed.

WHITE HOUSE - OVAL OFFICE

"Someone has to move."

"It’s a classic stalemate, Leo."  Jed Bartlet commented, looking over his glasses at his Chief of Staff.

"Not really, Sir."  Leo McGarry crossed his arms over his chest and leveled his gaze at his boss and best friend.

"It is, Leo.  Two great minds are at an impasse; confidence, wit and ability, adding spice to conflict."

Leo shook his head.  "Pig-headed egotism is more like it, Sir."

"Are you referring to me, or to the French Prime Minister?

"If the shoe fits..."  Leo trailed off, giving an exasperated sigh.  "Would you move, Mr. President?"

The President looked from his best friend to the chess board between them.  "So impatient, my friend.  You need to relax more."

Before Leo could retort, they were interrupted by Charlie Young,  "Excuse me, Mr. President; there is a phone call for Leo."

"Pardon me, Mr. President" Leo stood and moved to the outer office to take his phone call.

Jed looked up at his young body man.  "Care to sit in for Leo, Charlie?"

"Not if wild horses were to drag me naked through the streets, Sir."

The President chuckled and dismissed the young man.

"Thank you, Mr. President." Charlie left the room with a sigh of relief.

"Everything alright?" Bartlet asked as Leo returned, his face set with a grim expression.

"That was C.J."  Leo settled into his seat on the couch and leaned forward, arms on his knees.  "There’s been a thing."

Jed evaluated his advisor’s countenance and posture.  He briefly wondered when they’d become these old men.  Seemed like these years in office were taking too much out of them, and he wondered for a split second if they were going to survive.  "How bad is it?"  He asked, his voice soft, trying to comfort Leo, who was clearly up set by what ever he had been told by their Press Secretary.

Leo leaned back on the couch, feeling more than his age.  "Josh is in the hospital."

Jed sat up in surprise.  "What happened?"

"He, Sam, and Donna went out for a drink after work.  He was, as C.J. put it, defending Donna’s virtue.  Some muscle head put him into a wall."  Leo paused, sucking in a fortifying breath, then releasing it before continuing.  "He’s got a broken collar bone and a bruised wind pipe.  He’s being kept in the hospital overnight as a precaution."

Bartlet let out a low whistle.  "But he’s going to be okay?"  Leo nodded in response.  "Does anyone have the story yet?"

"C.J. didn’t think so, but she’s handling it. She doesn’t think this is going to be too bad.  Josh wants to press charges, but both Sam and C.J. seem to think that this won’t be a big thing.  There were a lot of witnesses, including two off-duty police detectives, who were the ones that rescued Josh."

The President shook his head again.  "The things those kids get into."  He was quiet for a moment.  "And Donna’s okay?"

"Yes, Sir."  Leo answered.  He held Jed’s gaze, an unspoken question in his eyes.

"Go ahead, Leo."  The President motioned toward the door.  "Keep me updated."

"Thank you, Mr. President."  Leo stood relief evident in his voice and movements.  He exited the Oval Office through the connecting door to his office and grabbed his coat.  He switched off his light, and headed out of the building.

GEORGE WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL

Josh slowly woke.  The first sensation he became aware of was pain and he groaned.  There was a stirring at his right side and he gingerly turned his head and forced his eyes open.  He focused blurrily on the young women sitting beside his bed.

"Hey."  His voice was soft and gravely.  It hurt to speak and he carefully swallowed, grimacing at the pain the simple action created.

"Hey."  Donna placed a gentle hand on his chest.

Josh flinched at the light touch.

"Sorry."  Donna started to remove her hand.

"No," he croaked. "It’s okay."  His voice gave out and he took another painful swallow.  "I’m just really sore."  He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and then refocused on Donna.  He reached up and wiped a stray tear from her face with his thumb.  His hand lingered for a moment and Donna allowed herself the rare luxury of leaning into his touch.  "You okay?"  He asked hesitantly.

She smiled and took his hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze before placing it on his stomach.  "Yeah.  My hero."

Josh’s chuckle turned into a groan as the movement jarred his collar bone and irritated his battered wind pipe.

Donna patted his hand.  "Leo is here, along with C.J. and Sam. They’re anxious to see you one more time."  She stood, reaching to brush back his hair.  "I’ll be back in the morning.  Dr. Kaysen said he saw little reason for you to be kept longer than tonight.  Get some rest.  I think you’ve earned a day off."

Josh grasped her hand again.  "Donna..."

She returned his grip.

"I’m sorry."  He croaked out.

Donna smiled and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on his lips.  "No, Josh.  I should be apologizing to you.  Thank you for defending me."  She gave his hand another squeeze before leaving the room.

Josh sighed as he savored the lingering feeling of the kiss on his lips; his reward for defending the virtue of Donnatella Moss.  His lips curled into a sleepy smile and he allowed himself to relax into the bed.  There was no question in his mind that she was worth the pain.

Finis


End file.
